In Alternity
by Tigrette-of-Fire
Summary: Perhaps it had been a foolish notion, but Jim Kirk had expected his mindset to brighten. The man who had mangled his life, killed his father, and destroyed his family was dead. On a particularly good night, Jim might even dare to say he had found the seeds of a new family in his crew. Nothing should have been wrong. Life, of course, had other ideas.


**Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek or any affiliated material**

 **A/N: Hey everyone! I mentioned a bit ago that I had another Trek fic in the works, and now I present to you** _ **In Alternity.**_ **While this is set within the AOS timeline, it would really be beneficial to have knowledge of the events of TOS.**

 **Lastly, this fic is dedicated to my friend Margaret, who came up with the concept of this fic and gave me permission to write it. So many thanks to her!**

* * *

Perhaps it had been a foolish notion, but Jim Kirk had expected his mindset to brighten. The man who had mangled his life, killed his father, and destroyed his family was dead. On a particularly good night, Jim might even dare to say he had found the seeds of a new family in his crew. Nothing should have been wrong.

Life, of course, had other ideas.

It all began, in a way, with a sandwich left out too long. Suddenly becoming the captain of Starfleet's flagship came with an overlarge helping of paperwork, and as such Jim had to eat in his quarters from time to time. He had _meant_ to take the plate of crust and crumbs for wash, but life on the _Enterprise_ was never calm and he'd just never gotten the time to do it.

The crust, following its nature as organic material, began to rot. It shouldn't have bothered him. It did.

Jim had vaulted out of bed and only barely made it to the toilet before he was vomiting from a heart-stopping fear. The smell of rotting grain slunk from his airways and into his brain, where it screamed of death and starvation and four thousand people dead.

Leaning against the wall of his bathroom, breathing hard, Jim supposed this would be a normal reaction to such a trauma - except none of it had ever happened. Jim had never watched a person starve. He had never witnessed mass hysteria as a man, by some perverse set of rules, chose who would live or die. He had never been personally spared for his strength by Governor Kodos while _four thousand others_ were marched into a disintegration chamber on Tarsus IV.

In fact, there had _never been_ a massacre on Tarsus IV. Yes, there had been a blight, when Jim was the same age as in these false memories, but scientists had come up with an antidote quickly enough to save most of the crop. He had also never been to the planet; he'd read about the scientific feat from his home in Iowa. Furthermore, Jim was almost certain Kodos was a Shakespearean actor, not a politician.

Jim fell back asleep against the bathroom wall that night-cycle, too exhausted to drag himself back to bed.

* * *

Upon waking, Jim took the time to confirm with the ship archives that the Tarsus IV Massacre had never actually happened. He sighed with relief at finding articles about the rescue efforts and miracle blight-cure. Additionally, Kodos really _was_ just a Shakespearian actor. He'd founded the Kodos Company of Players and was planning on passing the company over to his daughter Lenore one day.

There was something odd in the way Jim's stomach _squirmed_ at the name "Lenore Kodos," something strange in the way his subconscious rattled around the name "Karidian" - where that came from a mystery of its own, but Jim dismissed it. It was by no means as strange as hallucinating a slaughter. He sought to put the whole matter out of his mind.

He failed spectacularly.

Well, maybe not _spectacularly_. He managed to hide it from the crew for about three hours, though he knew that lasted as long as it did because Bones wasn't on the bridge and Spock was working a shift in the lab. Soon enough, however, Uhura was side-eyeing him with concern, then Sulu was too, and when Yeoman Rand had to wave her hand in front of his face to get him to notice the PADD she was holding for him to sign, Jim was pretty sure Uhura, Sulu, and Chekov were messaging each other over their comms about him.

"...Are you okay, Keptin?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just slept weird, for some reason." Damn Chekov and his big, sad eyes; Jim wasn't even technically lying and he felt like he'd kicked a puppy. A puppy that thought fucking everything was invented in Russia. Fuck.

"I have some tea that might help you sleep, Captain." Sulu offered. "I grow it myself in the botany lab."

Jim cracked a smile. "I might just take you up on that, Mr. Sulu."

* * *

Sulu's tea actually did help, in part because - according to Bones - it was high in melatonin content and in part because it had a strong aroma that cut through the remembered smell of rotting grain. It also didn't taste so bad, considering Jim had never been too fond of tea. Bones might kill him for the amount of sugar he put in it, but Bones had plenty of other things to kill him for anyways - what was one more?

He was also getting better at shrugging off thoughts of the phantom massacre as well, even if Spock raised his eyebrows at him more than before and Bones kept trying to get him to _talk_. (Honestly, if Jim had to hear the phrase "you know I have a psychology degree" again in his life he'd explode.) Slowly but surely, even the smell of rotting grain became less triggering. The memories of death and vaporization chambers became slippery, and for a few, golden days, Jim thought he'd be free of it all.

Of course, life was still a bitch with ideas of its own and a vicious mean streak, and Kevin Riley was called to center stage. Well, actually, he came up to the bridge to relieve Chekov of his shift, but the details weren't important. What _was_ important was that Jim actually met the man.

This wasn't to say there was actually anything wrong with Riley himself; he was a pleasant, though eccentric, fellow and a capable engineer in addition to his skills as a navigator. For all intents and purposes, however, he might as well have been a multi-tiered trigger cake with trigger frosting and the words "Hey-o Jim, remember the Tarsus IV Massacre?" written on top in bold lettering.

Needless to say, Jim froze at the sight of him.

 _A child was screaming - desperate, begging cries that split ears - and then the boy was running after his parents. Jim lunged unthinkingly, grabbing the boy around the waist and dragging him away from the door of the vaporization chamber. The boy was screaming louder now, flailing his little limbs and jabbing Jim in the stomach, but Jim wasn't about to let go. If he could even save one person…_

 _Kodos stepped up the the controls at the chamber window. The people inside were hammering on the walls with their fists, faces contorted into screams, but nothing could be heard through the walls._

" _Kid," Jim managed. "Close your eyes-"_

"Captain?"

 _He was backstage, the words of_ Hamlet _drifting from the performance. Riley stood, stricken, clutching a phaser in his hand._

" _He murdered my father, and my mother."_

" _You could be wrong. Don't throw away your life on a mistake."_

"Captain?"

Jim jolted back to reality, the abrupt transition leaving him woozy. The whole of the bridge crew was staring at him, Chekov frozen in the open door of the turbolift, Uhura rising from her seat to check on him, and _Riley_ looking anxious enough to bolt. Jim's heart was pounding.

"I-uh...I think I need to visit sickbay. Spock, you have the comm." With that, Jim fled, ducking past Chekov and taking the lift himself. What the _hell_ was wrong with him?

* * *

"I think I'm losing my mind, Bones." Jim must have sounded more frantic than intended, because Bones didn't so much as smirk at him.

"Alright, sit down. Start at the beginning."

The story tumbled out of him like those damn tribbles on Deep Space Station K7. He was tripping over his words and breathing hard by the end of it, and Bones's brow was more furrowed as he'd ever seen it.

"Bones...can you hallucinate a memory?"

"It's possible, sure, but exceedingly rare. However, before we jump to any conclusions - or you give yourself a heart attack, for that matter - I want to ask a few more questions and take a scan of your head. How long did it take for you to realize the memory wasn't real?"

"I knew pretty much immediately, why?"

"Usually when people experience memory hallucinations, they're entirely convinced they were real - so, that's a point for your psyche. You said you're hit with bits and pieces of the same memory?"

"Yeah."

"And you're still Jim Kirk when you remember these things?"

"Yeah. Well, I mean, sorta - the Jim in these memories is still calls himself Jim Kirk, but it's like he's from an alternate reality or something."

"Wait." Bones's eyes went wide. "Alternate reality? Didn't you say you mind melded with the Spock from the timeline without Nero?"

"What does that...oh my god. You think I got this from him?"

"I think you got it from him who got it from his timeline's you. I can't say I'm an expert on the Vulcan mind meld, but it seems the likeliest candidate to me."

"So I'm not crazy?"

"Not any crazier than you've ever been." There was a pause. "I still want to run some scans, though."

* * *

"I'm sorry to bother you, Ambassador Spock."

"It's no bother, Jim." The elderly Spock reassured him. "Though I have to admit I didn't expect the call - you must be busy with your newfound duties as Captain. What's troubling you?"

"I…" Jim swallowed hard and steeled himself. "Ambassador, in your original timeline, did I...was there a massacre on Tarsus IV?"

"Oh Jim," It was remarkable how much sadness Spock could convey with so few shifts of his face. "You're remembering being there, yes?"

Jim nodded.

"I'm afraid that's my fault. When I first came through to this universe I was entirely unaware of how much Nero had changed it - I'm sure you remember me thinking you were already captain of the _Enterprise_ when we met - and thus didn't keep much of the memories of your other self from you. Had I known, or been thinking clearly…"

"So I _did_ get that from the mind meld?"

"Yes. I'm sorry, you should have never had to see that."

"Well, at least I know I'm not going crazy." Jim let out a shuddering breath. "How did...how did your me deal with it?"

"Time and a great deal of therapy. I'd suggest talking to Doctor McCoy, especially if he has his psychology degree in this reality as well."

"He does, the overachiever."

"It seems some things are the same in any reality. Your version of me may also be of some use. He'll have at least some basic knowledge of the mind meld and may be able to assist Doctor McCoy's efforts."

"That's good to know. Thank you, Ambassador Spock."

"You're very welcome. You'll get through this; just remember that you're not alone. Feel free to call again if you need anything else."

"I will."

"And Jim? You're not wishing for the events of Tarsus IV in wishing for your family to be whole. Don't feel guilty."

"Thank you, Ambassador."

"Live long and prosper."

Jim sniffled and wiped his eyes as the video feed cut out. It would take a little time, but he'd be alright.

* * *

 **A/N: Just a few notes here at the end. Firstly, the lines "He murdered my father, and my mother" and "You could be wrong. Don't throw away your life on a mistake" are taken directly from Star Trek: the Original Series episode "The Conscience of the King."**

 **Secondly, school is about to start for me again, so I will probably be pretty dormant for the next months. I promise nothing has been abandoned, I'm just going to be** _ **swamped.**_

 **Thanks for reading!**


End file.
